


Volatile Times

by Biles_Bilinski



Series: Volatile Times [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5x18 AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Nogitsune Effects, Teen Wolf 5B Rewrite, mention of nogitsune - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 15:25:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6120868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biles_Bilinski/pseuds/Biles_Bilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theo’s heartbeat spiked up.</p><p>He was slumped against the wall, skin shining with sweat. His hands were pressed down on his side, where deep claw marks had been slashed over from hips to his abdomen. He could practically see the skin shredded into ribbons. The blood stained his lacrosse shirt, changing the jersey from a soft maroon to a deep crimson. His eyes were closed, his breaths in heavy yet ragged pants.</p><p>Stiles.</p><p>[Revised, Re-edited]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was at the Lacrosse game. 

The game had completely slipped his mind, but even if it had he wouldn’t have thought twice. Scott had bigger things to worry about then a high school sports game, he didn’t think they would be that stupid, especially with Stiles on board.

But then the news came to him that the Beast had attacked the school, courtesy of a rushed text from Hayden.

So he wasn’t surprised to hear the screams when he reached the school. 

The busy parking lot, people dotted, scattered and scrambling at each other for safety. The sound of utter chaos coming from inside the school, belonging to maimed and terrified students, spectators and teachers. He could smell the blood. He knew he had to find Scott and the others, and avoid the Beast. He knew what it was capable of, and it would be stupid of him to handle it on his own.

Theo twisted around, bolting for the school. He burst through the doors, running down the hallway when a torrent of people came screaming, stumbling and rushing past him. He gritted his teeth in annoyance as some pushed past him, but continued onwards.

He reached the intersection, turning his head to both ends of the hallway.

Theo blinked as he saw the bodies laid strewn across the floor, some propped up against the lockers, chests ripped open by claw marks. Insides splattered across the lockers, the blood looked like spilt ink in the dark. 

But then he smelt it.

Fresh blood.

A familiar scent.

Alive.

Theo didn’t waste any time following the scent, bringing him to the janitor’s closet. So much blood.

He cautiously opened the door, careful to whoever was behind it.

Theo’s heartbeat spiked up.

He was slumped against the wall, skin shining with sweat. Trails of blood marked the wall, from where he had collapsed. His eyes were closed, his breaths in heavy yet ragged pants. His head was bleeding. Excessively. It trickled down the side his face, over the blossoming bruises that threatened to adorn his cheek.

It was Stiles.

His hands were pressed down on his side, where deep claw marks had been slashed over from hip to his abdomen. He could practically see the skin shredded into ribbons. The blood stained his lacrosse shirt, changing the jersey from a soft maroon to a deep crimson.

He was on him in a second.

“Stiles-Stiles, can you hear me?” He said frantically, moving his hand to press on his wound. How long had he been here?

Stiles winced at the contact, but wide, panicked eyes made contact with his.

“Theo.” Stiles sighed, almost sagging in relief.

“Shit, Stiles.” Theo said, shaking his head as he inspected the wound. It was gruesome, sticky beneath his fingers. The blood glistening as it continued to pump out of his weakening body.

He turned back, checking the hallways- for Scott, Malia, Lydia- any one of them. A sharp moan of pain had his attention back on Stiles, shifting and pushing harder onto his stomach. 

He felt a flare of anger and resentment towards Scott. Were they _this_ stupid? How the hell did he manage to leave Stiles out here to just bleed out.

"T-the beast.” Stiles wheezed, shifting his body, “It’s still outside.” His eyes locked with his in warning. Theo quickly shut the door behind them, locking it. Theo nodded simply, pressing his hand on Stiles’ wound.

Stiles let out a pained cry, hand grabbing for Theo’s shoulder. His head fell back, hitting the wall, panting heavily. More sweat rolled down his paling face.

A loud growl suddenly reverberated from hallway, both their heads snapping to the door, freezing.

The room darkened, the leg of the Beast large enough to block out the small window, giving them a preview of the nightmare. Stiles’ breath catches in his throat, willing himself to keep his breath in.

The Beast roared powerfully once more, Stiles unable to keep himself from flinching, the floor and walls shaking, reverberating dangerously. Theo gripped Stiles’ shoulder in warning, eyes still fixed on the the Beast. 

Stiles and Theo both let out the breaths they had been holding when it finally ceased.

“I got it’s scent.” Theo whispered. Stiles simply nodded, loosening his grip on Theo’s shoulder, suddenly feeling sick.

“Stiles, it’s still outside.”

 

* * *

“Oh my God.” Stiles moaned, squeezing his eyes shut, trying so desperately to not make a moron of himself and _not cry_ in front of Theo.

But it was literally the worst thing he’s ever felt. 

“Stiles.” Theo moved closer to him, one hand pressed tightly on his fucked-up side, and the other hovering uselessly.

“It fucking _hurts_.” Stiles spat angrily, digging the side of his head into the wall in some feeble attempt to get away from the blistering agony.

It wouldn’t stop. And he let out a frustrated, pained cry as the immeasurable pain grew more insistent. He couldn’t keep in the pathetic whimper that escaped his throat. 

“It hurts like shit, _it hurts._ ” He said hoarsely, eyes squeezed tightly, feeling sick. 

_“It hurts.”_

He grounded his teeth, frustrated tears leaking out, breaths laboured and desperate. 

“ _Make it stop, makeitstopmakeitsop.”_

He barely noticed Theo taking his wrist. 

Suddenly, he felt a majority of the pain just… dissipate. 

Panting, Stiles opened his eyes, meeting Theo’s face who’s in turn was squeezed in pain. 

Stiles frowned, eyes widening as he looked down to where Theo’s hand gripped his wrist tightly, his eyes following up the path of the dark vein-like lines that travelled up his arm, infecting Theo. 

Theo’s eyes flew open, a few short breaths escaping.

Theo nodded, gripping Stiles’ wrist tighter, “You’re right.”

“It does hurt like shit.”

 

 

* * *

 

Stiles swallowed, feeling more sweat and blood trickle down the side of his head. He felt drunk. Dizzy. Off-balance. And so tired… If he could only…

“I need you stay with me, Stiles.” Theo said firmly, shaking his shoulder slightly. Stiles’ eyes rolled back slightly as he blinked, but he nodded sluggishly at him. It didn’t assure Theo one bit.

“Of course I get stuck, dying, in a freaking janitor’s closet with you of all people. Flippin’ brilliant…” Stiles mumbled incoherently, demeanour slumping. Theo averted his eyes from his, unsure of what to say.

“Shut up, Stiles.” Theo said simply, his voice smaller then he wanted it to.

Stiles scoffed, eyebrows raised in his direction.

“You need your energy. We don’t know how long we’ll be here.” Theo said hastily. Stiles frowned, glancing up at Theo with curious eyes.

“What do you want?” Stiles asked, frustrated. Because that’s what he wanted to know. What did Theo want? He thought he figured him out, back in Eichen house. Theo wanted power, he wants to be an Alpha. Hell, he even admitted to him that he did. It had been easy, then. He’s used to that. Peter, Kate, the Darach. Yet here he is, Theo Raeken, trying to keep his insides from spilling out.

“Right now, I want you to shut up and stay alive.” Theo said forcefully, his tone demanding and sharp, a _wonderful_ display of how serious he was. The grip on his wound tightened at his words, causing a small cry to leave his lips. He tried to ignore the way Theo flinched.

So Stiles bit his lip, nodding his head.

“I think I can only do one of the two things.” Theo’s head turned back to him, eyes narrowing in what seemed like…

Concern?

Stiles chose to ignore it.

 

* * *

Mere minutes passed by, and Theo could see that Stiles’ condition was deteriorating. And the Beast was still outside. Prowling. He could still hear people screaming.

“-where is your ‘pack ‘anyways?” Stiles murmured, eyes focused on the way Theo’s hand pressed on his wound. Black lines on the Chimera’s arm, taking away his pain.

“Where the fuck is yours?” Theo fired back angrily. Stiles blinked, the sudden retaliation unexpected.

“Why the hell aren’t they looking for you, why isn’t at least one of them with you-.” Stiles didn’t want to hear it, shaking his head.

“Uh, maybe there’s a freakish super-sized monster wolf-.”

“So they leave you on your own?” Theo shot back, eyebrow raised in an incredulous manner. “If I hadn’t found you, you would-.”Stiles scoffed before he could finish his sentence. His daring wet eyes challenging Theo’s.

“I’m not out of the woods yet, buddy.” Stiles said, leaning his head back onto the wall tiredly.

Theo pursed his lips.

There’s a silence.

“Does it still hurt?” Theo asked quietly, eyes glancing back at Stiles’ gruesome wound. Stiles doesn’t even bother looking down, instead analysing the features of Theo’s face for any line of deceit. But his mind is all jumbled with the adrenaline and fatigue that he gives up. Gives in.

“You’re taking away my pain.” Stiles acknowledges, gesturing his head towards Theo’s arm.

“Is it working?”

Stiles nodded, biting his lip.

“Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

“Why’re you even bothering with me?” Stiles murmured.

His head was now on Theo’s lap. Because it got to the point where Stiles couldn’t hold himself up against the wall. Couldn’t hold his own body up. It took a while to drive common sense into Stiles, as if he was in utter denial that he was-

Dying.

But he eventually gave in because Theo found a weak spot in his defence.

After all, that’s what Theo did best.

Theo’s hands are still pressed firmly on Stiles’ abdomen, careful not to agitate it; The feeling of the wet, mutilated flesh was something he was used to by now. Warm and sticky beneath his hand. Stiles’ blood. Stiles’ life blood.

“Still think I have some ulterior motive?” Theo said mockingly, remembering their conversation.

“More than likely.”

And clearly, so did Stiles.

But the dying human still smirked up at him playfully, the adrenaline and fatigue undoubtedly overwhelming his mind.

They didn’t have much time.

“But ‘seriously, why’re you helping me?” Stiles mumbled, frowning up at Theo, “You could ‘probably make a run for it. You’re fast.”

“Not if I’m carrying you.”

“Why?” Stiles challenged. "And for the love’of God, drop the altru-istic act, ‘lease." Theo averted his eyes, shifting uncomfortably. Stiles frowned; He never think he’d live to see the Chimera as uncomfortable with something as he was now. Theo always seemed so damn sure of everything, with his knowing smirk and confident-ass voice. It frustrated him to no end.

Seeing this side to him made him uneasy. It reminded him that Theo was still pretty much human.

“Because you don’t have to die.” Stiles frowned.

“The-fuck is that supposed t’mean? Why’d you care if-.”

Theo cut him off, never letting him finish his second sentence. “I’m not the bad guy, Stiles.” And, gosh, the guy almost sounds offended.

Stiles scoffed, shaking his head. He’s heard this argument way too many times. “Then _what_?

“When Scott finds out the only way to stop the Beast is to kill whoever’s behind it, what do you think he’ll do?”

This threw Stiles off-guard.

“What if you’re right, Stiles? Maybe the definition of a True Alpha is someone who doesn’t put up with murder.”

“Y’can’t use my own words against me.” 

“More people will be dead by the time he finds an alternate solution- if there even is one.”

“So what would you do?” Stiles fired back, almost defensively. Theo doesn’t even hesitate to answer before glancing down at him.

“Snap it’s neck before it can kill anyone else.” Doesn’t even miss a beat.

There’s a silence. Theo could see Stiles’ mind at work. Knowing that he was silently agreeing with him, that he was right.

But of course, Stiles would never admit it.

 

* * *

“I’m tired.” Stiles announced, eyelids showing signs of dropping once more. Theo could hear the slow pulse of Stiles’ heart.

Stiles was dying.

“You can hold on a little longer, it’s still out there.” Theo said. Stiles whimpered, shifting his body, leaning into him.

“I’m going to die, aren’t I?” Stiles said softly, “Fuck.” 

_"Fuck."_

Theo was determined to focus on taking his pain.

“Y’know, this being senior year I thought that maybe…” Stiles started, his eyelids fluttering in effort to stay awake.

“Maybe I’d actually survive ‘till graduation ” Stiles chuckled, as if the idea was a far-fetched fantasy. “Throw our hats in the air like the best sorta cliche high school movie…” Stiles’ eyes wandered over his deliriously, “Hell, maybe you’d be there. You’d look so funny in of those dumb robes…”

Theo blinked. He knows that Stiles probably doesn’t even know he’s rambling. He knows that being disjointed from reality was a side effect of dying. And from the looks of his bleeding head, he knew that it was also a contributing factor.

But still.

“Lydia would’ave like literally the best valedictorian speech, and Malia… ” Stiles laughed, but it was throaty and pained. Theo wanted him to shut up- he didn’t want to hear this.

“Didn’t even make it past the first semester.”

Theo gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to slap Stiles. An unfriendly, unfamiliar feeling started to flare up in his chest him.

“Stiles, shut the fuck up.” Theo whispered furiously.

Stiles laughed. But it came out as a guttural sob, his lips chapped and pale. The discolouration in his face significant.

“You’ll get your wish soon.”

Theo stiffened at the remark, his eyes making their way back to Stiles’. They looked dreary and tired. Glazed over, his eyelids drooping too frequently. He turned away from him, biting and licking at his lip.

As if, in realisation of what he just said, Stiles lets out another pained sob, fingers twisting in Theo’s shirt. 

Theo’s chest tightens. 

“You’re not going to die.” Theo said, in a matter-of-factly tone. Stiles looked up at him, but Theo doesn’t return the look.

“No?”

_“No.”_

Stiles just nodded in acknowledgement, but he’s pretty sure he heard wrong. He doesn’t bother asking for a repeat because he’s not sure he wants it. He’s confused, tired and dying and Theo’s making it worse. Messing with his head while he’s like this. But he doesn’t even have the energy to get angry.

Suddenly, Theo’s head snapped upwards. Stiles frowned, jerking against him, hand instinctively making for Theo’s arm. “What?”

“It’s gone.”

Stiles sucked in a breath, letting his hand fall back down. “Oh goody.”

Theo doesn’t even hesitate to scoop up Stiles’ legs in a bunch, his other arm grasping at his back and shoulders. Stiles let out a guttural cry as Theo stood up, carrying him in his arms. The movement agitating his wound, jostling it painfully. Theo winced slightly as Stiles screamed at the movement, but he strived on. He needed to get Stiles to the hospital, now.

He ignored the human’s pained moans, finally getting to his pickup truck. He placed Stiles over the passenger seat, then made a round to the other side truck to fasten himself into the driver’s seat.

“Put pressure on it.” Theo said, pulling out of the driveway. The parking lot was still teeming with utter panic and chaos.

It was only a few minutes drive to the hospital, but Theo knew that a few minutes could mean Stiles’ life. He didn’t give it a second thought as he pressed down on the pedal, going over the speed limit. Not caring for the red lights and stop signs. His attention solely on the road- that is, until Stiles let out wet cough.

Theo couldn’t do anything but listen to the sound of Stiles heaving, his savage gasps for breath. Theo used a spare hand to lift Stiles’ head up, leaning it on his lap so that his throat was slanted, and that he could breathe.

“Stiles, you need to breathe.” He gave Stiles a quick glance down. Shit.

Stiles’ pale skin glistened with sweat, his bangs plastered to his clammy forehead. His chests heaved with his pants, his eyes widened as he clutched the seat beneath him. Red stained his bottom lip.

“Shit, Stiles, we’re almost there.” Theo said, fighting against looking at the distant hospital and back at Stiles. He used a hand to drag Stiles’ torso upward, so his body was shifted in a way he could breathe easier.

More blood speckled his pale lips, his eyes beginning to lose their light. Glazing over as his eyelids fought to be closed. It felt like he couldn’t get any air in, and he was breathing like hell.

Just before Theo could park into the hospital, Stiles’ heaving breaths came to an abrupt end. Theo’s breath hitched, as he looked down at Stiles. The human’s eyes were closed, his head lolling to the side into Theo’s lap.

Theo didn’t even bother parking.

He slammed the door open, immediately taking Stiles’ lifeless body in his arms and bolted for the doors.

“Somebody, help!” Theo called out, running for the reception desk.

It was all a blur from then on. One of the worker came towards him, yelling out instructions at the receptionist and at Theo.A group of people came with a stretcher and an oxygen mask, adjusting Stiles onto it. Melissa came at one point, following the group with haste, only saving Theo one glance. A look of worry and fear.

Theo didn’t know how long he was there.

Siting at the waiting room, Stiles’ heartbeat out of reach.

He's never felt so anxious.

He should leave, Melissa would’ve eventually called Scott. They’d be here soon. He’d find out if Stiles had made it sooner or later.

His hands melded together, his foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

No,

He would wait.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Scott?”

_“Mom? What happened?”_ Melissa closed her eyes, pinching her fingers over the bridge of her nose before answering.

“It’s Stiles- he’s been hurt. And it’s bad.” She could hear her son’s breath hitch at that, the small noise making her heart clench. She didn't need to add to this nightmare of a night. 

_“We’re coming over- how bad?”_ She bit her lip, unsure of how to answer him. 

_"Mom, how bad is it?"_ He pleaded, the worry in his voice delivering another pang of pain to her heart. 

“Just come over. Quick. And there’s something else you need to know.” Melissa said, purposely avoiding the question as she walked back into the waiting room, Theo’s head perking up at the sight of her.

Her lips pressed into a fine line, but her eyes remaining vacant as she made eye contact with the Chimera. Theo only reflected back the look.

“Theo’s here.”

_ “Mom- don’t try anything with him, I’ll be over in a minute just don’t try anything-.” _

“Like hell I won’t.”

But before Scott could say anything, Melissa ended the call, storming over to where Theo was, who stood up from his seat as she approached him.

“How is he?” Theo asked, eyebrows knitted together in concern. Melissa wish it didn’t look so damn believable.

“Cut the crap, what did you do?” Melissa clipped, crossing her arms at him. Theo scoffed at her, licking his lips impatiently.

“I found him,” Theo started, tone bitter. “The Beast showed up at the game, as you’ve probably been told by Scott-.” Melissa nodded, knowing of the plan.

“-and so I went to the school and found Stiles like that. The only thing I’ve done is probably save his life, something fucking Scott couldn’t-.” He was cut short to sudden noise slicing through the air, now a slight sting on his right cheek.

 

She slapped him.

 

He scoffed, a slight bitter smile making a way to his lips. His head still turned to the direction where she’d slapped him.

“Don’t you dare play hero after everything you’ve done.” Theo pressed his lips together, slowly turning his head to meet hers. Her eyes were dark with fury, her jaw tightened, challenging him.

“I’m simply doing what Scott couldn’t.” He sneered. Her mouth opened to say something but he beat her to it, “Now, how is he?” He asked impatiently. She squinted her eyes at him, reluctant to share anything. 

What did he want?

But with that look on his face, she gave in. There wasn't any point in not doing so. 

Melissa shuffled, her head at level with Theo’s to keep her ground, keeping a calm and calculated gaze. “He’s… going to pull through. His heart stopped once during the operation, and we managed to revive him, but he’s also lost a lot of blood.” She shook her head, biting her lip, “Nothing’s certain at this point.”

Theo nodded, taking it all in. “How about his head?” Melissa’s eyes flickered back to Theo.

“It’s a deep cut but the only thing that I’m sure won’t kill him.” She said stiffly.

Melissa scanned Theo’s face, but the Chimera’s face was unreadable. She knew how manipulative he was, so she knew believing that his concern was genuine was out of the question. But she had no idea why the Chimera would bother saving Stiles’ life. He confused her, and she was almost dreading what he had in store for them. There had to be a reason, right? There had to be.

“Mom?”

Both their heads snapped to the direction of the door, where Scott came walking in, at a furious pace, followed by Liam, Hayden, Kira, and Malia.

“Where’s Stiles, how is he?” Malia asked immediately, eyes fixated on Melissa.

“What are you doing here?” Scott demanded, throwing the distasteful remark at Theo. “What happened to Stiles?”

“What happened is that you weren’t careful enough.” Theo retaliated viciously, taking steps towards the True Alpha. “The Beast is out there, ripping people apart and you think the smartest thing to do is leave Stiles on his own?!” Theo exclaimed incredulously, eyes flickering over to the rest of the pack’s eyes.

“Did you forget that he doesn’t heal like we do? That he’s fucking human!” Theo shouted at Scott, his tone accusatory and venomous.

Scott flinched, but is silent at the remark. The rest of the pack aren’t as deterred; but he could see the uneasiness behind their eyes. Theo takes this as a sign to continue.

“How the hell are you supposed to protect this town if _you can’t protect your own pack_?”

“Why do you even care?” Scott snarled, taking a step towards Theo in an attempt at defiance. Theo rolled his eyes, snorting at the effort.

“Does that even matter? All we know is that if I hadn’t come by, Stiles would’ve just been another body to add to the pile.” Theo drives in. There’s a silence, and the whole pack is looking at Scott for a response.

But they all knew it was true.

Theo could see it in their eyes.

He walks past them, leaving the waiting room.

Scott said nothing, left with his pack in a too-quiet waiting room.

* * *

“How is he?” Lydia asks, rushing into the waiting room with eyebrows raised in concern. Her eyes were red and puffy, the bottom of her eyes rimmed in black from where her makeup had been smudged.

The whole pack was sat in the waiting room, as well as the Sheriff, who’s head had been buried in his hands.

They all turned to look at her.

“Lydia.” Scott said, standing up to approach her. Lydia stared wide-eyed at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

“I felt it.” She whispered, biting her lip. “He was dying and he was…he was dead.” Lydia choked, staring down at the floor. She couldn’t look at Scott, or anyone for that matter.

She could see everyone visibly stiffen at her words, a wave of uneasiness and dread washing over all of them.

“Stiles was dead.” She repeated, as if she couldn’t believe it.

“Hey, hey. He’s okay now.” Scott comforted, placing a hand on her arm. He gently pulled her body towards him, resting her head on his shoulder. Lydia stayed wide-eyed as he embraced her, still in shocked of what _almost_ happened.

“He’s alive now, he’s stable.” Kira offered, turning to Malia and Liam with a slight smile. “That’s what Melissa told us.”

Liam shook his head, twiddling his thumbs anxiously.

“But it was all our fault.” He whimpered, fixated on the floor.“Stiles would be dead if it wasn’t for…”

“Hey, we don’t think about the what if’s.” The Sheriff scolded, but there was no heat behind his words. “What’s been done is done, and Stiles- Stiles is going to be fine.”

Sheriff looked at all of them, and the sight made his heart clench.

When he first heard that his son was in hospital, when he heard what had happened, he had been so, so angry. He yelled at all of them, demanded to see his son. He barely even remembered what he said. He started thinking about getting his son and him out of Beacon hills, how it wasn't safe for him, blaming the lot of them, that if it weren’t for them they wouldn’t even be in this situation. 

But he didn't- because he remembered. His son's pack, friends. 

They were just kids. He looked at them again, the dark circles under their pale, young faces. Their wet, red eyes and marred, blood, torn clothes. They shouldn’t have to be going through such… _shit_. God, what have these kid’s lives come to?

And his own son. He didn’t deserve half the things that’s happened to him.

None of them did.

Liam nodded at him, and with the way the beta’s shoulders relaxed, he knew that his words had somewhat comforted him. Even if it was just a little bit. The kid’s eyes were bloodshot, his shirt still stained with blood and ripped by vicious, ugly claw marks. 

The Sheriff knew he was a good kid, Stiles treating him like a pesky little brother all the while Liam looked up to him. Liam would follow Stiles around like an attention-seeking puppy- the very thought made his mouth twitch upwards.

And Malia.

She had been quiet all this time, and he knew she blaming herself for all of it. The look was written all over her face.

The Sheriff knew that Malia would do anything to keep Stiles safe, he’s seen their relationship and the mutual, sheer protectiveness of the other. It was something.

“Hey.” He said gently, putting a hand on the distraught Werecoyote’s shoulder. Her eyes acknowledged his and he could see the gnawing guilt behind them. He offered her a reassuring smile, rubbing at her shoulder in comfort.

“It wasn’t your fault, okay?” He said softly, “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Malia nodded, responding simply with a small smile.

Just then, Melissa emerged from the hallway.

* * *

 

 

Theo’s eyes fluttered open to the sound of his phone ringing.

He groaned, rolling over to reach for his phone that vibrated mercilessly on his nightstand, the light of the screen contrasting against the pitch black that was his room.

He swiped his thumb over the screen, the blue light of his phone glaring back at him.

1 new text from Scott.

Apprehensive, he tapped to open the text.

**_He’s okay._ **

 

* * *

When Stiles came too, the first thing he noticed was the soft mattress and sheets he was smothered in, his face cool, exposed to the… AC.

He groggily opened his eyes, finally acknowledging the beeping of an EKG monitor. Everything felt…fuzzy, distant. He blinked a couple of times, his eyes still adjusting to the sudden flood of light. God, it was so bright.

Hospital, his mind supplied.

“Stiles?” He could hear his dad’s voice, coming from his right.

What happened? Why was he here?

He slowly shifted his head to his right, his dad practically scrambling to get to his side. How long had he been out?

His eyelids felt like anvils, threatening to stay closed. But he needed to know.

There was an IV tube running down both sides of his cheek, connected to his nose. They ran down his arms, down his neck. He also feels the squeeze of a bandage wrapped tightly around his head. What happened?

“Dad.” He breathed painfully. 

“I’m here, Stiles.” He assured, a hand resting on his arm for assurance.

“Water.” He croaked, realising his throat was as dry as sawdust.

His dad didn’t waste anytime in fetching the paper cup to the side, helping Stiles sit up, gripping him by the shoulder, so he could drink.

When he was finished, he could begin to feel the increasing pain in his abdomen. Fuck.

Stiles swallowed, looking down his body. He was covered in a blanket, but the pressure around his waist suggested bandages- Bandages wrapped around his torso, his hip. Fuck, what happened?

“How long was I out?” Stiles started, his voice still drowsy from the sedatives. He could see his dad visibly swallow.

“Dad?” He asked again, worry mounting in his gut.

“Two days, Stiles. You lost a lot of blood.”

Stiles' breath hitched, letting it sink in. Two days.

A lot can happen in two days.

“Do you remember what happened?” His dad asked, sensing his uneasiness. Stiles looked up at him with a frown, confused.

“Theo brought you in-”

That did it. 

 

The sudden flood of memories had him drowning in them. He remembered. The game, The Beast, the white-hod wave of agony from when it's claws tore through him, the sight of blood making him sick, him scrambling for the Janitor’s closet, Theo-

 

Theo.

 

Stiles frowned, looking through his memories. Theo?

 

“Should I get Scott?”

Stiles nodded, his eyes never following the way his dad left the room, calling Scott’s name.

 

Theo saved him?

 

Theo.

 

Theo Raeken. 

“Stiles!”

Stiles turned his head, unable to keep the smile in at the sight of Scott’s face.

“Hey, Scotty.” He croaked, the Alpha eager to get by his side.

“How are you feeling?” Scott asked, after their brief half-hug. His eyebrows knitted together in concern as he looked down at him. Stiles sucked in a breath.

“Like I’ve been mauled by a 10-foot genetically-engineered psychotic werewolf but otherwise, I’m peachy.” Stiles said back, a cheek to his smile.

Scott and the Sheriff scoffed at the remark, his dad unable to keep his eyes from rolling.

“I meant like… are you in any pain?” Scott tried again, leaning against the bed rails. Stiles frowned, glancing back at the bandages around his waist.

“I’m fine.” He assured, offering a gentle smile. Scott smiled back.

He didn't know why he felt the need to lie. And by the looks of his EKG monitor, he got the lie covered. Maybe it was because of the dark bags underneath Scott's eyes. And the sudden guilt he felt in his chest by just looking at Scott.He didn't need to add to that. Obviously, _something_ happened while he was out.

“I’ll tell the others you’re awake; I know that you’re probably exhausted-.”

“Damn right.” Stiles muttered, content with having another round of sleep, lolling his head back into the pillow.

“-But is there anything you need?”

Stiles blinked, considering everything. Everything that happened, everything that didn’t make sense. The things that didn’t add up. He knew that a million other things probably happened while he was out, but he had to know.

“I need to see Theo.”


	3. Chapter 3

Of course, Scott and the others were against it from the beginning. But it was settled. The arrangement was to text Theo to come by, all the while Scott supervised. Stiles didn’t know why that was even necessary- why would Theo want to hurt him after going out of his way to save his life?

It didn’t matter, anyway. He didn’t even get a reply. Stiles wasn’t surprised. It was worth a shot. 

Theo knew from the text that he wouldn’t get the privacy he wanted. He preferred not to have an audience, or an entire pack on edge ready to strike at even the slightest unmoderated move. Instead, the Chimera showed up in Stiles’ room later that night.

Stiles was asleep, his head tilted to the side with a hand placed across his stomach. IV tubes on his face, connected to his nose. They ran down his arms, under his hospital gown, that was under the thin cotton blanket that he was smothered in from the chest down. A bandage wrapped around his head, a red surfacing from it.

Theo could smell the blood.

Eyeing the IV, the Chimera cautiously made his way to Stiles’ side, staring down on the human’s peaceful form. 

Theo reached down and squeezed Stiles’ shoulder gently, those brown eyes fluttering open in response, his pupils dilating as they adjusted to the light.

Stiles blinked, before looking up at Theo who smirked down at him.

“I said four-thirty, you dick.” Stiles murmured, groaning as he turned his head in order to face Theo, shifting his body upwards slightly.

“Couldn’t come talk to you with Scott around to listen.” He answered without missing a beat, retaining his usual smile, hands wrapped around the railing of the bed, leaning onto it.

“And what exactly did you want to say that you didn’t want Scott hearing?” Stiles inquired, eyebrow raised at him in question.

Theo shrugged, smug smile sustained, “I just thought you’d appreciate this moment of privacy.”

“Make me appreciate it.” Stiles challenged.

“Stiles, you’re the one who asked for me.”

“Leaving Scott and the others to grieve over me would’ve been a good distraction. Saving me didyou no favours so why did you?” Stiles shot, his voice deadpanned. It almost got Theo off-guard at the severe bluntness of the question.

Theo chuckled, leaning more of his weight onto the bed railing.

“You know, we’re more alike than you think.” Theo started. Stiles wanted to roll his eyes- in fact he does, he feels obliged to. Like it's his duty. Considering it’s _the_ biggest villain-to-hero cliche he’s ever heard.

“Yeah?” Stiles urged him on, barely repressing the urge to fire back a sarcastic comment.

“Because you and I know what it takes to survive.”

“What are you talking about?” Stiles asked. 

“I’m talking about Donovan, Stiles. The Nogitsune.”

“Why does any of that matter?” He snapped, gritting his teeth, suddenly growing increasingly worried. 

“It matters because it means you understand,” Theo said, as if it was the answer to everything, “What’s the common factor between the two?” 

“Get to the point.” Stiles demanded impatiently.

“We have to kill the Beast,” Theo started, “And now that we know who it’s vessel is…” 

“We all know that you just want to take it’s power.” Stiles points out, remembering that crucial, crucial fact. That Theo’s only killing it for his own benefit- even if saving half a population of people was a byproduct, it wouldn’t be his initial intent.

“Does that matter? It would kill it.”

“It,” Stiles echoed, in disbelief, “ _Mason_ is the beast.” It shouldn’t be justified.

“Half of our classmates are dead, Stiles, if we don’t do something then half of Beacon hills are going to join them.” Theo reminded, his teeth on edge as he forces out the words impatiently.

“We can’t just straight-up  _murder_ him.” Stiles whispers, already thinking it through- when he realised what he’s doing he stops. He can’t believe he started to even consider it.

“I can.” Stiles’ eyes snap to him.“I guess what happens now is whether you’d stop me or not.” Theo finally says, leaning further into the railing. “Are you going to stop me, Stiles?” Theo’s voice making it sound more of a tease then a threat.

Stiles clenched his jaw, looking away. Damn him, stripping away any chance of plausible deniabilityaway from him. 

“Even if I told you I’d tell Scott, right now, you wouldn’t kill me.” Stiles noted, frowning up at the IV bag.

“No, I wouldn’t.” Theo admitted, shrugging. Stiles narrowed his eyes. “But you aren’t going to tell Scott either.” Stiles huffs, still refusing to look back at Theo. He could practically feel Theo’s smile, burning the side of his face. The jerk. 

“Liam would hate me.” Stiles said softly, his final, weak argument against Theo.

Theo paused, as if weighing his words. Stiles waits patiently, dread curdling in his gut. 

“With the Nogitsune, _Stiles_.” Theo started, and Stiles is already still at the mention of the name. “Did it ever come to a point where it was either you or everyone else?” 

He just had to keep bringing up the Nogitsune. With every ounce of effort, he repressed the memories with a swallow. 

“What would you have picked?”

“I get it, you idiot.” Stiles gritted out impatiently.

“And?”

“Jesus, do you want me to spell it out loud for you?” Stiles snarls, finally facing him, “I know what utilitarianism is, Theo, and, yes, it’s something I _can_ get behind.” 

“I don’t care what you do, where you go, I really _don’t_.” Even Theo doesn’t believe that. “But can you at least enlighten me with a straight answer?” 

Theo chuckled, “Depends.” 

Stiles ignores him, already pissed off. “What the hell do you want from me?” 

“You saved my life, you won’t kill me- even if it would be in your best benefit to do just that. None of this will ever get Scott to trust you. He already thinks that’s the reason _why_ you saved me.”

“What do you think?” 

“I don’t know, Theo, that’s probably why I asked you the question.” Stiles says, sarcastic and annoyed. 

“Think.” 

Stiles was about to lash out at him, then he remembered. The night of the super-moon. When Theo confessed everything to him. 

“A pack? You think I’d ever follow you?” Stiles asks incredulously, “The Nogitsune is gone, and, hate to break it to you, but last time I checked, I am  _human_.”

Theo gave him a strange smile, “We’ll see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean-.”Stiles says, trying to sit up too fast, instead jostling his stomach wound, crying out, a the guttural gasp leaving his throat. The EKG monitor spiked up at the movement, Sties gripping his side tightly, falling back against the bed, eyes squeezed shut. 

“Stiles?” Theo frowned, placing his hand over Stiles’ wrist as Stiles continued to press down on the bandage.

“M’fine.” Stiles groaned. “I’m fine.” 

“You almost got torn in half, you’re not fine.” Theo scoffed.

Stiles shrugged, glancing back down at Theo’s hand, “I’ve been through worse.”

A wave of relief suddenly washed over him, a sigh leaving his mouth as his head fell back onto the pillow, Theo’s grip on his wrist relaxing. 

Theo was taking away his pain _(again.)_

“Thanks.” Stiles mumbled incoherently, his eyes purposely avoiding Theo’s. Theo said nothing, a subtle nod being his sole response. Stiles watched, mesmerised, as the dark veins crept up the Chimera’s arm, watching Theo’s jaw visibly tighten at it.

His body sagged into the hard mattress, a strange sense of serenity overcoming him. Despite Theo- Theo who had killed, maimed and said he was going to do just that again right in front of him literally two minutes ago - being in the same room as him. He didn’t want to know what that meant.

He trusted Theo. - No, he trusted Theo to tell him the truth. Yeah. Even if the jerk preferred that process to be as annoying and agonising as possible.

“You know this is for the best.” Theo said simply, noticing how Stiles seemed to go into subspace, even if his eyes were averted downwards, away from Theo. Disrupted from his thoughts, Stiles frowned at the remark, lifting his head up to look at him.

“That I’m out of your way?” Stiles suggested, eyebrows raised.

Theo’s gaze lowered, “Not mine.”

Stiles had to figure him out.

“You don’t have to be… like this, you know.” Theo said, licking his lips. Stiles furrowed his brows, turning his head in question. “You’ve mentioned.” 

“You could have it, all you have to do is ask.”

Stiles made a face at Theo.

“Ever wonder why I never asked Scott for it?” Theo nodded, changing his grip on Stiles’ bed railing.

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t.” Theo said, frowning. Stiles scoffed. 

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Stiles said, with no heat, loosening his wrist from Theo who looked at him questioningly, Stiles’ eyes fluttered, dragging his wrist up so Theo’s hand fitted around his, changing the awkward grip. His heart did an awkward flutter. 

“You could always ask me. If you’re worried about dying, that is.” Stiles’s gaze drops.

“Hayden, Corey, Tracy, Donovan… no bites, no scratches, no risk of rejections… just a bottle.” 

“And a needle.” Stiles murmurred. Theo chuckled, “And a needle.” he repeats.

Stiles isn’t considering it. Nope. 

“Doesn’t it hurt?” _He’s asking for a friend._

“I don’t think so.” 

“You don’t think so?” Stiles asked incredulously,  “ You’re _one_ of them, they turned you too, how do you not know how getting injected by this -whatever- feels like?”

Theo’s face drop, just for a second, slowly slipping his hand away, almost absent-mindedly, a sigh ghosting past Stiles’ lips at the withdrawal.

Stiles’ eyebrows scrunched up at the new-found silence, turning his head towards Theo, inclined to hear more. Before he can ask, his gaze was returned to Stiles, composed as ever.

“I was their first experiment, Stiles. I swear they’ve… refined their methods since.” Theo shrugged, “Less pain from what I could see over the years, or _‘hear’_ , I guess.” 

Stiles bit his lip, shaking his head, already unnerved. 

“I don’t want it.” Stiles finally said, fixing a steely gaze with Theo. The EKG monitor beeped loudly through his words.

Theo, eyes still locked with Stiles’, nodded, smiling slightly. Stiles’ face remained unchanged.

“If you do change your mind, all you have to do is ask.” Theo says, nonchalantly, turning to the IV attached.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked, alert. Theo scoffed, fingers running over the knobs.

“Whoever figured your morphine dosage needs to get fired.” Theo said simply, twisting the knob up, the amount of clicks informing Stiles that the know-it wasn’t going to kill him.

Finally, Theo turned to leave, Stiles’ eyes staring into his back as the Chimera walked away from him.

At the doorway, Theo turned his head to face Stiles once more, eyes meeting. Stiles licked his lips, giving Theo a nod.

 

 

* * *

 

“So I don’t get a gun?”

“You’re going to be fine.” Malia assured, completely ignoring the question.

“So… no gun?”

“Stiles!”

“Okay okay, Mountain Ash circle, Werecoyote and professional assassin with the guns. Multiple guns. Stiles is safe.” Stiles backtracked, revising the fortress of a defence he has. Well, he’s going to act like it was. Optimism was everything, after all. 

Malia is stood, ready, by the doorway of his room. Stiles’ bed is surrounded by a clean circle of mountain ash. It was a known fact that the Desert Wolf was out to get Stiles as well- She was adamant to kill anyone to get at Malia. The actual worst reunion ever. 

Braeden was positioned outside, ready to alert them when the Desert Wolf was in sight. Once told, Malia would jump out the door, with Braeden, and fight her mother out in the hallway. Dismantle her gun and subdue her. Away from Stiles. Malia being in the room with him was just a precaution.

It was simple plan. Two on one.

They’d get through this.

 

 

* * *

 

Of course they had to fuck it up.

Plan A never works.

The door slammed heavily, the loud noise causing Stiles to flinch back, heart pounding.

Malia didn’t say anything, just positioned herself beside the doorway, reading to burst the door open in the next second. She didn’t dare say anything to give out her location.

It turned out, she didn’t have to.

The door was blown off it’s hinges, with the Desert Wolf’s hands fisted around a very unconscious Braeden’s collar. With a vicious growl, the Desert Wolf threw Braeden against the wall beside Stiles, the assassin slamming into it, body falling to the floor with a thud, gun clattering on the floor.

“She’s good, I’ll give you that. Managed to disarm me but,” She cricked her neck to the side, elongated teeth revealing themselves in a terrifying smile, “I don’t need them to tear you both apart.”

Malia roared, blue eyes shining ferociously as she darted for her mother, tackling her. She pounced at her, claw up to strike downwards, trying to push her back into the hallway. Stick to the plan. The Desert Wolf snarled, blocking the move with her own set of claws, thrusting them into Malia’s arms and forcing her backwards. She growled lowly at Malia, blue eyes glowering back in a challenge.

Malia stumbled, allowing the Desert Wolf the upper hand, grabbing her by the collar and throwing her across the room. Malia let out a gasp as she made impact with the wall, her body crashing to the floor.

Growling back, she used a hand to steady herself against the wall, but she wasn’t quick enough. The Desert Wolf had years of experience on her, something that Malia didn’t have. She was on her in a second.

Her claws dug into Malia’s sides, the Werecoyote crying out, blue eyes shining in agony as the claws tore into her. Her mother grinned, hoisting Malia up slightly with her claws.

“How are we, sweetie?” The Desert Wolf said condescendingly, her smile sadistic. Malia snarled at her, but was cut short as her mother raked her claws downwards, twisting them.

“Malia!” Stiles cried out, sitting up, wanting to do _something_. He turned to the unconscious Braeden, practicing willing her to wake up.

“Don’t you want to protect your special _Stiles_?” She continued, plucking her claws out, thrusted them into Malia’s stomach. Stiles stiffened at the mention of his name, clutching the sheets tightly. 

“Your poor, helpless little human, left to me to play with, because of _you_ ” She said viciously, jerking her wrist cruelly. Malia cried out, her eyes gleaming with agony and kindled rage.

Stiles gritted his teeth, nose upturned in a snarl.

The Desert Wolf suddenly twisted the both of them around, thrusting Malia on to the floor, her body skidding against it.The Desert Wolf waltz towards Malia’s scrambling form, a smirk stretched across her lips as she kicked at Malia’s open wound, her smile growing as Malia’s body lurched forward.

“I’ll drag it on until he’s begging for it.” She spits, putting her boot over Malia’s torn up stomach, brutally pressing onto it. “And even after.”

Stiles’ eyes widened at Malia, eyes frantically searching for Plan B. He eyed the gun by Braden. If he could get to it… But he’d have to break the mountain ash line and that would also not be good.

“Sink my nails into that pretty, white flesh. You’ll get to watch as his skin tears open, see his insides spill out right there on that bed.” She continued sadistically, pressing the heel of her boot harder into Malia, who started choking on her own blood, fighting for a chance to breathe. 

“He’ll be screaming, screaming for you to save him. It’ll be wonderfully pathetic. You’ll be right here, watching as it happens, when you listen to him begging me to end it. Begging _you_ to end it.” Malia shook, with anger and fear. A terrible mixture of both as she desperately fought against the weight crushing her chest.

“Then you’ll get what it’s like to have something so _core_ to you ripped away from you.”

** “Your _anchor_.”  **

Malia screamed, blue eyes bright with grief, mouth smeared in blood and white fangs protruding from the crimson gargling in her mouth. With all her strength, she pushes her entire body upwards, throwing her mother off slightly but still gaining her the chance to roll away from her.

The Desert Wolf growled animalistic-like, hand held up to strike a fatal blow across the neck and-

 

Bang.

 

The Desert Wolf gasped, gripping her now-bleeding shoulder. She whipped her head around, bearing her fangs as he blue eyes met Stiles’. The human was stood up, with Braeden’s gun aimed in her direction, mountain ash line spread and broken. He was sweating profusely, but his eyes were fixed with a steely, impassive edge.

The Desert Wolf made a move to advance on Stiles, her mouth wide open in an inhumane, vicious snarl-

 

 

 

Bang.

 

 

It’s the stomach this time, and the Desert Wolf stumbles back. She snarled at the human, using her clawed hand to push herself off the wall-

 

 

Bang.

 

 

Slumped on the ground, her eyes are burning bright blue with fury, she roared at him, pathetically lunging forwards,

 

 

Bang.

 

Bang.

 

Bang. 

 

Bang.

 

“Stiles, stop!” Malia cried out, stumbling to get to Stiles’ side, forcing herself to look away from her mother’s limp form jolt from every shot Stiles delivered.

Her voice snapped him out of it, and in realisation of it, he drops the gun. His eyes looks into Malia’s in alarm. Fear. Relief.

Stiles tumbled to the ground, his adrenaline boost over, Malia caught his fall, arms hooked under his arms, hands on his back as she lowered him to the ground carefully. As she untangled him from her, Stiles’ eyes frantically searched her’s, relieved that she was alive.

“Stiles.” She said, voice gargled, distressed.

He tackled her in a hug, holding on to her tightly. Malia returned it, resisting the urge to cry into his shoulder as she held the back of his head into her shoulder, trembling violently.

Suddenly, Stiles withdrew, twisting to his side. He heaved, throwing up his stomach’s contents, hands firmly planted against the solid ground, eye purposely avoid the bloody corpse. His entire body was trembling violently. Malia could smell Stiles’ blood, and knew something was wrong. She herself was still healing, her entire front a massacre. Malia’s hand never left his back, stroking it in soothing circles. Her mind still not caught up with what happened, tears beginning to slip down her face.

His eyes were teary as he turned back to Malia, throwing himself against Malia once more, letting himself be held as he shook against her, his shaky hands desperately holding on to her.

_“You’re okay.”_ Stiles says, muffled, as if he needs to assure himself, _“You’re okay.”_

Malia nodded, holding on to him tighter.

“It’s finally over.” Malia said tearily. Her mother was dead. It was over. For both of them. He clutched at her.

There was no doubt about it now.

The Nogitsune, Donovan-

The Desert Wolf. 

For those few seconds, he felt _it_.

_It_ felt good. 

 

* * *

 

 

It turned out that he torn a couple of stitches, the adrenaline boost preventing him from feeling it.

The Sheriff managed to cover up the Desert Wolf’s body, not questioning the many bullet holes left in her body after stealing a glance at Braeden, who came out of it with a concussion. The assassin was the one to kill the Desert Wolf. That’s what they told everyone. They all ate it up.

Lydia opened the door to Stiles’ room gingerly, carefully closing the door behind her as she made her way to Stiles. The ceiling lights were off, the only lights in the room were of the machines hooked up to Stiles and the dim lamp to his right. 

He was confined to another two weeks in hospital, especially since the wounds had reopened. As well as a sudden fever that flared up the day after.

Despite how carefully Lydia closed the door, the creaking of it still woke Stiles. His eyelids fluttered, stirring.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Lydia whispered gingerly, walking over to Stiles’ side. Stiles blinked, shifting his head into the pillow.

“It’s fine, ‘too much sleep anyways.” Stiles mumbled groggily, finally making eye contact with her.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, taking his hands in hers. Just like what he did for her. Stiles appreciated it, brushing his thumb over her fingers, eyes following the movement.

“Fine.” Stiles said softly, his eyes never leaving the way their hands fitted together.

“You don’t have to lie.” Lydia said quietly. Stiles nodded slightly, but said nothing.

“How did you… stop it?” Stiles asked, breaking the silence, finally turning his head to her. “The Beast, how did you get Mason back?”

Lydia bit her lip. “You know how calling a Werewolf by it’s given name returns it to it’s human form?” Stiles nods, having to pull that trick out on several occasions, “We figured that a Banshee’s scream would be strong enough to work on the Beast and so…”

“Oh.” Was all Stiles could say. “That’s really smart.” 

“We didn’t even think it’d work, we were lucky that it did.” Stiles scoffed, eyes casted back down on their intertwined hands.

Stiles thought about it, blinking.

“What happened to Theo?” Stiles asked, frowning, still looking away from Lydia. Just in case he gave himself away.

Lydia licked her lips, looking unsure of herself.

“He’s gone.”

Stiles blinked, his grip subconsciously tightening around Lydia’s hand.

“What do you mean?”She pursed her lips, shrugging. 

“We don’t know where he went.”

“Wasn’t he there?” Stiles asked once more, confused more than ever.

“He was.” She started, her brows furrowed together, “He killed Tracy and Josh, Stiles.”

_“What do you mean?”_ Stiles asked, drumming his thumb on Lydia’s hand.

“Deucalion managed to convince Theo that he could take their power.” Lydia said, shifting her grip on Stiles’ hand. “But taking their power would end up… killing them.” 

_“What happened, Lydia?”_

“He electrocuted Liam and Scott, then used Kamina venom on them, he _attacked_ us.” She continued.

“Then what happened?” Lydia bit her lip. 

_“Lydia.”_

“Argent shot him, then Deucalion broke his neck.” 

“Then?”

Lydia shrugged. “We don’t know.”

Stiles leaned back against the bed, processing it all. 

“Deucalion.” Stiles said incredulously, sitting up. “What did Scott do about him?”

Lydia furrowed her brows turning to face him, looking at him as if it were obvious. “Stiles, he’s on our side.”

Stiles’ chest rose as he sucked in a breath. He did not know that.

“Did Scott not tell you?” Lydia frowned. Stiles shook his head, biting his lip. No, actually, _he didn’t._

“So you’re telling me Scott just let Deucalion manipulate Theo into murdering his own pack?” Stiles questioned softly, bitterness seeping into his tone.

Lydia pursed her lips.

“Stiles…” She started, “Scott didn’t have a choice.”

Stiles shook his head, half-scoffing and half-chuckling, that's the second time he’s heard something along those lines. 

“There’s always a choice.”

Stiles sucked in a breath. Decided to force the truth out. 

“And I killed the Desert Wolf,” He felt his eyes were wet, tears threatening to spill. “I killed someone, _again_.”

“Stiles.” Lydia said hoarsely, her voice utterly sorry, gripping his hand with both of hers. 

“Lydia,” Stiles tried to say the other thing. How he felt good, killing the Desert wolf, how it felt victorious, magnetic, made him feel _powerful_. 

“Lydia-.” But he couldn’t find the words. Lydia saw his struggle. 

“You don’t have to tell me everything right now,” Lydia soothed quietly, nodding. “But we’ll work through it, I swear.”

Stiles nodded gratefully, just capable of a feeble smile. 

Lydia chose not to say anything else. Instead, she stayed with him, getting up on the bed with him, holding his hand in silence.

Stiles swallowed, heart pulled at the gestured, grasping her hand tightly, leaning against her. He was so confused. So fucking tired, and a mess. Everything was _wrong_. 

But for the moment, he allowed himself to relax. 

They'll work it though it, wouldn't they? 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This is not the end, I'll be writing a sequel to follow it up. Keep an eye out for it in the future ;)
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's supported me, this had been so fun to write! ~ Thus the end to my first multi-chaptered fic ~  
> And one more thing- thoughts on Theo/Stiles romance? Yes or Nah? 
> 
> Thank you so much again! Your words mean a lot.


End file.
